


it's where my demons hide

by hyengold



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kim Seungmin is Whipped, M/M, Please Don't Kill Me, actually a lot of abuse if i carry on with this fic, but he's an actual sweetheart don't get me wrong, hyunjin's in jail boys, i don't know what i'm doing i promise you, some trigger warnings??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyengold/pseuds/hyengold
Summary: “Hello?” is the first thing the prisoner says when his own receiver is pressed to his ear, almost by habit.The young man laughs softly, and replies, “Hello, Hyunjin-ah.”
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	it's where my demons hide

**Author's Note:**

> so... hi!
> 
> this is gonna be a new pending project of mine, whether or not it will be completed is debatable, but basically my brain gave me this premise one fine day:
> 
> "what if hyunjin somehow got his ass landed in jail and seungmin has to deal with the consequences?"
> 
> aaand this mess was born.
> 
> i'm stepping way outside my comfort zone here because angst has never been my strong suit, and trust me, this is gonna be one angsty boi, but the idea won't stop pestering me so Here You Go. an angsty seungjin fic. if, and only if, i decide to continue this, there's gonna be a lot more trigger warnings and tags to come because i have LOTS in store, but because of the impending fate of school, things will be tight. comments will definitely help encourage me to write though!
> 
> also, about trigger warnings, i have NO IDEA how to tag trigger warnings or how to identify them, so if you spot any that i missed out, PLEASE don't hesitate to let me know. one more thing, this thing has a lot of technical stuff that google can provide only so much information for, so if i get creative and erroneously write some details wrong i apologise. let me know about those wrong details too!
> 
> and side note i PROMISE i'm working on playing with fire (shameless promo lmao) i just need *smacks head* some more *smack* brain juice *SMACK*
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

The judge bangs the gavel a few times as the gallery buzzes with shocked gasps and scandalised whispers. “Order! Order in the court please!” the judge demands. A quiet, uneasy hush instantly falls on the spectators; quite the turnout that’s been seen in a while. He turns to address the accused standing trial. 

“And how does the defendant plead to this case?”

In the defendant’s corner, a young man hangs his head low, not daring to meet the eyes of anyone in the premise, yet all eyes are on him. His lip is trembling, hands quivering uncontrollably. A few moments of silence pass until a final word slips past his lips.

“Guilty.”

“Then I declare the defendant, Hwang Hyunjin, guilty on charges of first degree murder, chargeable to at least seven years in prison. However, due to both the defendant’s juvenile age and proven offences of both child and marital abuse on the deceased’s part, the sentence shall be reduced. I hereby sentence the defendant to four years in prison, and six months of community service.”

The gavel slams on the table with deafening finality.

The courtroom fills with soft, half-hearted applause as people gather their bags and briefcases, exchange brief words, and move to leave the room. A woman bursts out crying. A few witnesses are shaking hands and making small talk, exiting the room as though making their way to a coffee shop for a chat after work, and not a condemning legal binding. The defendant buries his face in his hands. His body visibly shakes. No one approaches to comfort him.

But that does not mean no one sees him. In the middle of the gallery, another young man, seemingly impervious to the crowd around him, dressed smartly in a suit and tie, places his arm reassuringly around the shoulders of the crying woman, but his gaze is focused elsewhere. His gaze is trained on the burden-laden man sitting a few feet away, something unrecognisable in his eyes. A passerby would have simply identified it as longing. He thinks it’s something a little more sorrowful than that.

_A few days later._

The same young man, still jarred by the scene he witnessed from the gallery, walks through the doorway into a large room. They certainly didn’t make any effort on the decor, he notes, but lord knows how many emotions these drab grey walls have silently stood watch to. Countless, he’s sure. In front of him, people sit two by two, facing each other across a table in an arranged row, separated into cubicles by an indifferent wooden wall. The even more obvious barrier, however, is the glass panel that coldly forbids physical contact. The people on the young man’s side are wearing clothes from all walks of life, the young man included. The people opposite, however, are all wearing a uniform shade of blue. Everyone present has a wired telephone pressed to their ear, murmuring softly to each other through the electrical communication device. Some people are talking morosely, some with a wistful smile on their face, there is even one woman sobbing. The young man did not come here to cry. At least, he prays so.

A door from the other side opens and a stern man in all black escorts a new blue-bearing person into the room. The young man’s breath hitches. He hurries to his assigned cubicle.

The prisoner follows suit, and the young man studies his appearance. His dark hair is even more messy and tangled, and his eyes, when they hesitantly flick up to meet his counterpart’s are dim and the young man can clearly see that life has been drained from them. They approach and face each other like this, like two creatures meeting for the first time, quietly soaking in each other’s presence, letting the reality sink in that _yes, this is what’s happening_. Then the young man sits down, and takes the telephone off its hook.

“Hello?” is the first thing the prisoner says when his own receiver is pressed to his ear, almost by habit. 

The young man laughs softly, and replies, “Hello, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hwang Hyunjin, freshly convicted of murder and newly instituted in prison, smiles wanly in return. “Seungminnie. I- thank you for coming.”

The young man on the other side of the glass barrier, Seungmin, shakes his head, dismissing the gratitude. “I wanted to come.” He then looks at Hyunjin anxiously. “How have you been?”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’ve been alright.” A wry grin twists itself onto his face. “If you can call _this_ alright.”

Instantly Seungmin perks up, worried. Hyunjin waves him off. “No, I’m really fine. Everyone’s surprisingly polite and I guess the routine's fine… we wake up at 6am, if I close my eyes long enough I can pretend it's a normal school day." His smile turns a little rueful. 

Seungmin nods, exhaling deeply. Something in him feels furious, seeing a person like Hyunjin like this, trapped within four walls, outfitted in these clothes. He deserves so much more. So much more. Alas, not everyone can get their fair portion. 

Seungmin absentmindedly lifts a hand against the glass barrier, half wishing it could pass through to at least meet Hyunjin's hand once more, to tell him he was here for him. Hyunjin always had an affinity for physical contact, clinging to his friends with his lanky limbs as often as he could. Seungmin had grown to find comfort in them, and now he can't even return the favour. 

Hyunjin's hand lifts to match their fingertips. Seungmin breathes softly. It's a tender moment, and he tries his darndest to communicate silently how he feels about the entire situation. Hyunjin's fingers move in a stroking fashion in response, almost as if placating Seungmin. Ironic, seeing the circumstances they're in. 

"I've started visiting your mom," Seungmin begins. 

Hyunjin brightens. "Eomma! Yeah, she visited two days ago. Told me to look after myself and stuff. She-" his expression falls, "-she seemed so sad." 

Seungmin thinks back to the depressive, almost vegetative state he has found Hyunjin's mother in when he decided to drop by. When Hyunjin left, it was like she had lost her will to live. Maybe she had. "I think she needs some time to adjust," he says slowly. "We all do." 

Hyunjin's eyes meet Seungmin's once more. "And what about you?" 

Seungmin tilts his head confused. "What about me? I should be the one asking _you_ that." 

"C'mon," Hyunjin whines, almost plaintively, bringing a chuckle out of Seungmin's lips. "Prison life is _boring_. You’re the only connection I have to the outside world! Tell me what’s been going on with you.”

Seungmin shrugs. “If you insist.” He subconsciously taps the glass as he recalls his recent developments, as well as in general. “After graduation everyone’s been applying to college. I’m pretty sure Jiwon and Eunha are going to go on a sports scholarship, and Kim Jimin’s going to America for college, can you _believe_ it? Lots of our classmates are doing pretty well, actually. I _think_ Naeun’s going to-”

“Seungminnie.” Hyunjin cuts in, a fond laugh escaping him. “I was talking about _you_ . What’s been going on in _your_ life?”

“Oh.” Seungmin blinks. “Well, I-” A shy smile grows on his face. “I’ve been accepted into law school. And I’m applying for a minor in photography.”

Hyunjin instantly breaks out in a blinding grin. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, Seungminnie. I hope you get in.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “Me too. Anyways, my parents have decided to up and leave Korea to visit Paris or something for their anniversary, so I’m left here alone with Wonpil-hyung for a whole two weeks.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen dramatically. “Oh no. You’re doomed. You’re going to die.”

Seungmin groans, equally dramatically. “I _know_ , right? Wonpil-hyung’s a whole mess and I swear, he’s definitely gonna bring his friends over and cause a drunken mess that _I’ll_ have to clean up.”

Hyunjin giggles, and it makes the whole mood feel lighter. “It really feels like you’re the older sibling sometimes, you know.”

Seungmin fervently nods. “Exactly! Lord knows how I put up with all of hyung’s nonsense-”

Suddenly, the door bangs open, and the guard from before appears once more, but this time with no escortee. “Alright, everyone, wrap it up,” he calls loudly.

Hyunjin glances back at Seungmin with a new urgency in his eyes. “I’m sorry; there’s a curfew.”

“Of course.” Seungmin anxiously presses his hand to the glass. “Look after yourself, yeah?”

Hyunjin mirrors Seungmin’s hand. Seungmin offhandedly notes that Hyunjin’s hand is slightly larger than his. “You too, Seungminnie.”

Seungmin bites his lip, hesitant to leave.

Seeing this, Hyunjin’s lips curl up into a last smile. “I’ll be fine, Seungmin. Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay,” Seungmin whispers into the receiver.

“One more minute!” the guard announces. It echoes throughout the room, like the gavel from not too long ago.

“Bye, Seungminnie,” Hyunjin says hurriedly. It isn’t like most goodbyes. Beneath the strong facade quivers a vulnerable layer of rawness. Like there’s so much left unsaid within those two words. Like there might not be a next time to say those unsaid things. 

Seungmin takes all that is unsaid, and keeps it in his heart. “Bye Hyunjinnie,” he murmurs back heavily. It’s too little; but it’s all he has.

He hangs the telephone back onto the hook.

**Author's Note:**

> aaand that's it folks! congrats for getting as far as you did
> 
> so as mentioned before, continuation of the fic is tentative, but i guess i kind of set it up in a way where a continuation is necessary... but i'll cross that bridge when i get to it. like i said this fic is SERIOUSLY out of my comfort zone, and if i do continue it will deal with issues such as mental health, alcohol abuse, abuse in general, discrimination, etc, etc. personally, i have near no experience with these issues, and i seriously don't want to romanticise thee things because they are problems that should be taken seriously. if you want to offer yourself up as a second opinion (preferably a validated one), please feel free to! this is essentially an open call for a fic beta, i won't fool you. 
> 
> you can hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/randomlyskz), however, because of some "security issues", or whatever twitter wants to call it they've restricted my original account, so this one is a replacement, @/randomlyskz. it's wild, i know. if you followed me on my original account @/arbitrarilyskz, you should follow me on this one to keep the mutual, because lord knows i can't remember anyone's handle lmao
> 
> welp! it's nearing 2.30am and whatever i've typed down so far will probably feel like a fever dream when i wake up. have a good day/night everyone <3


End file.
